


Constellations

by JessariOfErebor



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Dwarven Culture, Erebor, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Mutual Pining, Promises, Reunion, Stargazing, coming home
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:20:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24731470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessariOfErebor/pseuds/JessariOfErebor
Summary: Hazel eyes were dark, glinting in the moonlight. “I must leave for the Shire tomorrow. You know this.”“I do.”
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield
Comments: 8
Kudos: 43





	1. Lunar Promises

**Author's Note:**

> Starts one month after the Battle of the Five Armies.

Thorin found his quarry atop the battlements. 

Bilbo was stargazing, kept warm by his dwarven clothing. He turned when he heard the scuff of a boot.

“Ah, Thorin. Care to join me? I’ve already seen two shooting stars tonight, and I would bet a basket of my best tomatoes that there will be more.” Here he paused, unsure, before turning back to the night sky. “Of course, I’m sure you have some reason to be up here. I know your time is precious, and I would not intrude on it.”

“It is past midnight.”

“Oh, is that so? I hadn’t noticed,” Bilbo replied sarcastically, gesturing at the sky and moonlit fields below.

Thorin’s lips curled in a small grin. 

“I have no responsibilities this late beyond paperwork, but I finished that before coming here.”

Something in his tone made his burglar turn around once more. Bilbo crossed his arms and leaned against the stone battlements, Dale visible far behind him. Thorin approached him slowly, stopping when he was close enough to reach out and touch him if he so wanted. There was something in Bilbo’s face that made it clear he wanted to say something, but couldn’t quite bring himself to. All of his focus on Thorin, he absentmindedly began playing with the gem he wore around his neck.

“The mithril-” he suddenly said. “Why did you give it to me? And the necklace?”

Despite the nervousness in his stomach, Thorin stepped closer, pulled forward by a gravity that he was unable and unwilling to resist.

“Do you not know?”

Bilbo looked away from a moment, nose twitching in a manner that Thorin had always found quite adorable. 

“I have been given ideas by others, but I would like to hear it from you.”

“As your flowers have meanings, so do our gems. Sapphires represent hope, truth…” he trailed off. To his great surprise, Bilbo finished the sentence for him.

“Love.”

Their eyes locked as Thorin took a moment to gauge the situation. 

Throwing caution to the wind, he moved within inches of Bilbo’s lips, pushing their foreheads together and putting one hand on his friend’s lower back, the other folding over his hand and interlacing their fingers together. The new position meant he was touching the mithril-wrapped sapphire as well. Bilbo gasped quietly, moving his free arm to grip Thorin’s forearm. He had most certainly **not** anticipated an answer so bold. 

Thorin’s voice was rough when he spoke. “Do you understand, now?” His breath smelt of apples and cinnamon, and Bilbo found that he had absolutely no complaints.

“Yes.” Hazel eyes were dark, glinting in the moonlight. “I must leave for the Shire tomorrow. You know this.”

“I do.”

Bilbo sighed and lightly tapped his forehead against Thorin’s. “Do all dwarves have terrible timing, or is it just you?”

Thorin smiled. Before he could reply, Bilbo pulled away slightly. He brought their joined hands to his lips and kissed the back of Thorin’s hand.

“Stay with me and the stars tonight. I hear dwarves are fond of constellations.”

Thorin nodded, flustered by Bilbo’s tenderness and display of devotion. He wondered if Bilbo knew how deeply dwarves saw such forms of affection. 

“I will show you all the visible ones tonight, if you promise me one thing.” 

Bilbo raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Come back to Erebor,” he asked quietly, not daring to ask what he really wanted to: _Come back to **me**._

Bilbo regarded him for a few moments, no doubt seeing right through him and understanding what Thorin couldn't say. 

“I will.”


	2. Solar Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At last, Bilbo comes home.

Thorin frowned deeply as his raven returned, the letter he had sent West still attached to its leg. This was the fourth letter in a year that had come back to him, and that meant one of two things. 

One possibility was that Bilbo no longer wanted to speak to him, and did not even bother to read his letters before shooing the raven back to Erebor. The second possibility was that Bilbo was unable to be found. 

The latter thought made his stomach flip. Where else would Bilbo be except for the Shire, at Bag End? 

_ Perhaps he married and moved to another part of the Shire,  _ Thorin thought. Jealousy burned white-hot in his chest and he only barely managed to keep himself from ripping his unread letter in half. Surely they had an understanding...but it had been half a decade, after all. That wasn’t a very long time for dwarves, but Thorin was unsure of how hobbits judged time. Perhaps Bilbo’s feelings had changed over the years. After everything his burglar had been through, from rock giants to massive spiders, to praying beside battle-wounded Durins...it would be understandable if he chose a quiet life with some Shire lass. No less painful, but understandable…

*******

After arriving back in the Shire, Bilbo had found himself at a loss of what to do. He missed his friends dearly, Thorin most of all. He hoped beyond hope every day for one of the king’s lengthy letters to arrive. They were many, but had a good bit of time in between each, as the ravens took a long time to arrive from half the world away. Bilbo wished more than anything that he could rejoin his dwarves as soon as possible, but as the head of the Baggins family with no heir, the inheritance of his home and properties was a trying issue to deal with. 

Attempting to socialize with other hobbits was much more difficult than he had expected. Not only was he terribly bored by them, (with the exception of his cousin Primula,) they had little in common anymore. Not to mention that many of his kin refused to speak to him. Going on his adventure and coming home so changed led to many outright refusing to associate with him. 

One fateful day, Gandalf made his way into the Shire to find Bilbo trying to pack his life into a small wagon. The wizard had business in the East, and he had been thoughtful enough to stop by Bag End to see if Bilbo was interested in joining him on the trek. With the addition of a larger wagon for Gandalf’s horse, it only took a week for Bilbo to be ready to leave the Shire for good. He had to leave the majority of his belongings, but it was no great loss to him. Everything he had truly wanted (besides a certain writing desk) was on the wagons.

Bilbo travelled the long road with Gandalf. They enjoyed each other’s company, and the hobbit learned all he could about dwarves, men, and elves. It was quite the learning experience.

Eventually, the day he was to arrive at Erebor finally came. It was a lovely summer day with a cool wind that calmed the strength of the season’s heat; in other words, perfect. The sky was clear and blue, a lovely contrast to the mountain in his line of sight. He could not yet see the viridescent gates of Erebor, but he knew they were waiting, proud as ever.

Still, Bilbo found himself far more nervous than he would have liked to admit. As midday arrived and Dale was in sight, Bilbo could hold himself back no longer. 

“Are you sure he - I mean, are you sure they will be happy to see me? I haven’t received a letter in almost a year, not even while we have been on the road.”

Gandalf contemplated for a moment, blowing smoke rings before asking, “Did you let him know you would be traveling?”

Bilbo winced. “Um, no, actually.” 

Gandalf raised an eyebrow, giving him a pointed look as he puffed on his pipe. 

“Then how do you expect the ravens to find you?” 

Bilbo shrugged, flushing slightly. “Fair point. Still, it has been so long... trading letters are one thing, but to actually return? Maybe I shouldn’t have left Bag End to Primula after all...I very well might be on my way back soon, if this goes badly.”

Gandalf shook his head and let out a large cloud of smoke. “Do not worry so much. I guarantee they have missed you sorely these past few years.”

Bilbo gave him a disbelieving look, even as he pulled out the most recent of the letters Thorin had sent him. As he read from the worn parchment, the wizard gave an unseen, amused eye roll. He wondered why his friend was so nervous when clearly the king’s long letters should absolve his fears of rejection. Unfortunately, nothing could assuage Bilbo’s fear that Thorin’s heart may belong to someone else now. They may have had an understanding years ago, but as far as Bilbo was concerned, he knew very well that Thorin was a king. No doubt noble suitors would be throwing themselves at him at every chance...

*******

As they approached Erebor, Bilbo was astonished to see the work that had been done. No longer were broken statues and crumbled stone visible. The entire city face was impressively carved, every detail perfect, and the  j ade stone shone brighter than ever. Bilbo felt an overwhelming warmth fill his chest as he rode closer to the gates. He marveled at the feeling of coming  _ home  _ at last.

Gandalf’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. “Well, my friend, this is where I leave you.”

Bilbo’s eyebrows shot up. “You came all this way to leave me at the gates? Not even coming in for a cup of tea?”

“I have business in Dale, if you recall.”

“Ah, yes, that is true.”

Gandalf steered his horse closer, and the two shook hands. The wizard tipped his hat in farewell; it would be the last time Bilbo saw him for many, many years. 

Now alone, Bilbo made his way through the great gates of Erebor. He marvelled at the architecture along with the steady stream of humans and dwarves who went about their business. There were so many different types of clothing and hair adornments that he barely knew where to look. People of all colors, shapes, sizes, and races (even a couple of elves!) moved seamlessly as they went about their business. 

Bilbo stabled his pony and cart (ignoring the occasional whispers that surrounded him) and wondered what to do next. Since he had no clue as to the location of any of the Company members, or Thorin himself, he decided to go on a small sightseeing adventure.

As he journeyed deeper into the mountain, the true size of Erebor became known. Huge carved staircases with golden banisters were full of people going one way or the other. Warm, golden light from the forges lit the city. Light also came from the shops and homes with windows. However, Bilbo noticed with no small amount of joy that there was also some sunlight. He recalled Balin telling him about the giant mirrors that reflected it into the mountain, and how they were cleverly hidden from sight. 

From an outsider’s perspective, it appeared as though the impressive city had never known the heartache caused by Smaug. 

Standing near the top of a staircase made him think twice about adventuring on his own. There were so many ways to go that Bilbo feared he would get lost, and therefore decided to ask for directions to the nearest bathhouse. 

Once he was clean, he wandered the upper level once more.  _ Wait,  _ Bilbo suddenly thought to himself, recalling one of the old letters he had received.  _ If it is a bit past midday, he should be in the Gallery of the Kings receiving his subjects. It is the correct day of the week, after all… _

And so he made his way to one of the few places he knew how to reach.

The line was quite literally going out the door when Bilbo arrived. He sighed upon seeing how long it would take to be heard. Never one to be rude, however, he waited patiently for a couple hours before it was finally his turn. In the meantime, he was grateful for the lads and ladies selling pastries and refreshments to those waiting. He ignored the mutters and searching eyes that seemed to be assessing who he was, or  _ what _ he could possibly be. Being slightly shorter than the average dwarf and having a distinct lack of shoes made many excited whispers break out, but none were brave enough to ask him to confirm the rumours his presence created. 

*******

Thorin was having a shit day.

First off, he spilt hot tea down his front that morning. 

Second off, he was nearly groped by a particularly insistent noble dwarrowdam that did not understand that  _ no,  _ he most certainly was  _ not _ accepting suitors. Her antics got her two weeks in a comfy cell. 

Third off, he had to listen to his people that day, and as he knew from experience, that was most certainly bound to be exhausting. Petty squabbles between nobles and regular dwarves alike made him quite irritated. Sometimes he had to deal out punishments to law breakers as well, but those cases usually bothered him the least.

After negotiating the return of a prized necklace, he gave Balin an exhausted look. 

“How much longer?”

The older dwarf gave him an equally exhausted smile. “Only an hour, my king.” 

Next, he and his advisors had to negotiate grain prices with one of the largest farm owners from Dale. When they successfully managed that and the man left, whispers broke out across the room.

Thorin gripped the throne tightly, barely believing his own eyes. There, a mere twenty or so feet away, stood the blond hobbit he had been waiting for.

“I have come to fulfil a promise,” Bilbo declared. The whispering around the gallery intensified. His wavy hair was shoulder length now, and held two braids similar to Thorin’s own. He wore the dwarven clothes that he had taken with him to the Shire, Durin blue with silver geometric stitching. 

When the initial shock wore off, Thorin found himself on his feet and moving. He ignored Balin’s half-hearted protest and swept Bilbo off his feet quite literally with the force of his hug. After setting him down, he rested one hand in Bilbo’s hair as they put their foreheads together. 

The hall exploded in noise. To touch one’s hair was seen as taboo unless they were lovers or family...and it was clear that Bilbo was no dwarf, leaving only the first possibility.

“You have returned.” Thorin was beaming ear to ear in a way his subjects had never seen. 

“I told you I would.” Bilbo was smiling just as widely as he stroked Thorin’s braids between his fingertips.

A few words passed between them as Balin watched, somewhat misty-eyed. To see Thorin so happy instead of stoic and pining was a blessing indeed. 

“My king, there is still a bit of time to hear from your subjects.” 

Thorin broke their embrace, leaving a hand on Bilbo’s shoulder as he turned to face his brave advisor, a cunning man from the Iron Hills. The king raised an eyebrow and would have had a few choice words to say, had Bilbo not put his hand over Thorin’s. Thorin looked back at him and Bilbo nodded, eyes communicating that the king ought to finish his duties. 

Thorin led him to the left of the throne. 

“You will stand here when we hold court and hear our people.” The titters of conversation around them began once more, renewed by the entire situation they were witnessing. 

It was not lost on Bilbo (or anyone in the room, really) that Thorin had said “our people.” Not his people, but _their_ people. Bilbo felt a sense of rightness settle over him as the next petitioner came forward. 

Truly, he had come home. 

  
  
  



End file.
